Wild at Heart
by FunnyFloyd
Summary: 'Your friend is your needs answered. He is your board and your fireside; and when he is silent, your heart cease not to listen to his heart. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.' -Kahlil Gibran


**Wild at Heart**

'' 'But I haven't asked you yet,'' Mattis said. 'I will do that now. I ask you, with all of my heart, Ronja, come home to me again.' I have never met more difficulties in my life, thought Ronja. She had to tell him now, it would break her father's heart, she knew this, but she had to! That she had to stay with Birk. That she could _never_ leave him alone here to freeze to death in the winter's forest – _Birk, my brother, nothing can separate us, life or death, don't you know?_'' – Astrid Lindgren, '_Ronja the Robber's Daughter', 1981_

_Chapter 1. Thunder-Child_

The night that Lily Luna Potter was born, thunder raged the skies. It was a thunder so fierce that it even made the portraits of the ancient Black-family at Grimauld Place 12 jumped whenever the lightning became too loud or lit up the house without warning, followed by an enormous, terrible roar that seemed to strike the inhabitants of the paintings with fear just as it seemed unbelievable to them, that a tall, dark-haired wizard paced back and forth the dark hall, indifferent to the rebellious thunder and the ear-splitting sounds and the overwhelming blazes that lit up the night and reminded him of a great Polaroid-camera framing the events of this night. Up until now, he had kept silent and ignored the upset exclamations from the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black (which had been moved to the hall so he wouldn't annoy prospective guests who slept there) and other deceased members of the ancient House of Black, but then a particularly crashing light struck down just outside the house and a scream pierced through the building: None of the words were very intelligible because of the constant roars of the weather, but the man-sized portrait of Mrs. Black screamed her heart out as if she was trying to level with the thunder outside. Her hair was bristly and looked like it was caught in the electricity of the lightning; her eyes were big and around with rage and lunacy, her mouth agape with swears and curses nobody could hear, except from when the thunderclaps took a few moments to breathe in and start over:

''_FILTH! TRAITOR OF MY NOBLE HOUSE AND BLOOD! WHAT PURPOSE DOES HE HAVE HERE!'' _

''SHUT UP!'' Harry Potter shouted and pointed his wand at the portrait, but was unable to draw the heavy drapes that usually enclosed her and stopped her endless screaming. Then the voice of Arcturus Black, Sirius' grandfather asked with a voice that barely made itself heard above the cacophony around them; ''Why _are_ you here, pray tell?'' Harry turned to the portrait of a snobbish-looking wizard who had the same handsome eyes as Sirius.

''Be_cause_,'' Harry snarled, ''I've been told to wait outside while my wife is having a child! Don't you understand!''

''_HAVING A CHILD!'' _Mrs. Black howled with more powerful ferocity, echoing Harry's words. ''_ A NASTY LITTLE BLOODTRAITOR OF A THUNDER-CHILD!''_ Another crash rumbled through the house and made some of the portraits tremble.

''I said _SHUT UP_!'' Harry roared and sent a red light rushing towards the big painting of his godfather's mother; the drapes swung close and her screaming stopped as if someone had turned it off. He started pacing again.

''Surely, your wife is someplace else, having this child?'' asked Phineas Nigellus with bored arrogance.

''Of course she is,'' Harry barked and stopped pacing to glare at the former Headmaster of Hogwarts. Phineas raised an eyebrow; ''Then what, if I may be so bold to ask the new proprietor of my ancestor's beloved house, are you doing here?''

''I'm restless, don't you see?'' he said with frustration and threw his hands in the air to demonstrate his state of mind; '' I'm having a baby tonight, and I'm upset because Ginny doesn't want me there!'' He started pacing again, more desperate than ever.

Phineas just rolled his eyes and looked as if he barely stopped himself from grimacing: ''However difficult your situation may be, young man, that wasn't my question: I asked _why_ you are _here_, when you were told to stay _outside_, which must probably mean outside the hospital of Skt. Mungos, seeing that it's not here…''

Harry stopped and looked at the portrait without knowing what to say. Truth be told, he wasn't sure himself; what had made him leave Skt. Mungos, where both Ron, Hermione and most of the Weasley's were awaiting their new family-member, and resort to a place like this? This house was filled with memories that, as far as Harry knew, only rooted in depression and darkness far more than it was an appealing refuge for him when he wanted to be alone. But he'd suddenly been in the need of his own company, away from the scent of clean aisles and the quiet, reassuring voices of the healers. As if the unruly lightning that tore through the night had struck him, he'd wanted to be alone. He hadn't felt this way when Ginny their first two children, James and Albus, but that had been different, Harry reminded himself whenever he felt lame about running away, both times Ginny hadn't sent him outside with a gritted ''If you're not out of here in three seconds I swear to everything that's holy, I will forget about having this damn baby and kick you out myself!'' _Well, _a voice in his head told him, _until now, you felt fine about waiting outside, anyways_…

''Because I wanted to be alone, is that a crime?'' Harry retorted with decreasing self-respect.

''Certainly not,'' Phineas snorted and looked downright indignant, ''I see why the thought of _hiding_ in my grandson's house must seem appealing to you… I have never fancied children much myself…''

''Oh, shut it!'' Harry yelled and stamped back and forth in the hall, working his brain flat out: He wanted to go back, he really did, but what kept him here, with the unbearably arrogant ancestors of the Blacks? Why was he terrified by the mere thought of another child expanding his life, his love? Tonight, James, Albus and Rose (Ron and Hermione's daughter) were all baby-sitted by Hagrid, who took his job as a nanny more serious than Harry had ever seen him do as a care-taker on Hogwarts. He loved having ''the trio'' with him, whenever it was needed (sometimes Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny would ask for Hagrid's assistance for the sake of the half-giant rather of themselves): He had said, with a thick voice and blank eyes, that the little ones reminded him so badly of Harry, Hermione and Ron that it almost ached every time he saw them together. They couldn't blame him: James had inherited the infamous Weasley-hair as well as his Uncle George's mischievous smile, whereas Albus' similarity with his father was astonishing. Rose, however her red hair color, was her mother alike in appearance and wits; she had even adopted her Hermione's blaming expression whenever Albus (being the youngest) did something against her likening. And with Hermione heavily pregnant, Hagrid would soon have to look after two more little beasts. Harry quickly shook off the thought and returned to his worries.

Had he really been this touched, this fragile, when James or Albus had been born? No, no he hadn't… Maybe it was the weather that made him fear the worst? Maybe that was why Ginny had sent him out;

''_I'd like to have another happy kid, Harry, and I seriously doubt it will be if the first thing it sees is your terrified face!''_

The memory made him smile, however unconsciously. And he suddenly remembered what Dumbledore had said when Sirius had died and when the Headmaster had taken the guilt upon his shoulders: ''_I had acted precisely after what Voldemort expects from us fools who has love in our hearts.''_

Harry's smile spread across his face as another thunder-clap erupted from the sky.

* * *

Having Lily was like a kind of illusion; for the rest of his life, Harry would always remember the feeling of every fiber in his being bursting, exploding with devotion as his daughter reached out her tiny, tiny hand and grabbed hold of his finger with amazing strength and sent him a toothless smile. Harry noticed, with bitter satisfaction, that Lily had the same bristly, black hair as him: He had trembled with new-enforced love and let his daughter make herself comfortable in his heart.

But Ginny longed for her newborn daughter, the daughter that she had craved as her last child, as her own mother had craved a girl after six sons. At first, Harry wasn't too keen on letting the baby go, and she did utter a disapproving noise as soon as she could sense that he was giving her away, but the moment Ginny embraced the newborn in her arms, she fell silent. For a fleeting moment, so did the thunder-storm outside.

''What do you think we should call her?'' Harry asked Ginny. He almost couldn't tear his gaze away from the dark-haired girl in Ginny's arms, and he already felt a strong urge to have her close again.

''Lily Luna,'' Ginny stated matter-of-factly, as if Harry had asked about the ways of Apparation, ''I decided that a long time ago.'' Harry frowned:

''What if it had been a boy?'' But Ginny only looked at him with the famous Mrs. Weasley-look, which was calm and strict. ''Harry, if I have decided on a girl, then it _will_ be a girl… Besides, I've known since I got pregnant.'' Harry nearly laughed, but wasn't sure that Ginny would approve, so he just giggled sheepishly:

''How?'' Now it was Ginny's turn to laugh:

''Potter, you might be a fantastic, kind and brave wizard, but you don't know half of what's going on inside a witch's brain!''

At that moment, an inconceivable crash of thunder raged through the sky and Harry could almost feel the floor shake under his feet by the force. Suddenly, Harry turned to his daughter, terrified that she might have been frightened by the thunder, but Lily Luna was as calm as ever, her big eyes, the same dark color as Ginny's, staring directly back at him, reassuring him.

''Lily,'' Ginny told the child, ''your life begins in a magnificent way, you know…''

And with that, Harry smiled at his fortune of having three smart, beautiful and amazing kids. The whole night through, he sat with Lily in his arms and let Ginny sleep as much as she could, because he wanted to sit here, on this uncomfortable chair, with the raging thunder-storm outside and his daughter close to him forever. _Lily Luna_, he thought, _my little Thunder-child_.

**A/N *PLEASE READ*:**First, before too many comments about it, I'd like to point out that I'm fully aware that JKR originally gave Lily Luna red hair and James Sirius dark hair. The thing is, it does not work for me at all: I'm more content with a dark-haired Lily and a Weasly-like James... So now you know :)

All right, so this is the first chapter/the intro of my Fanfiction 'Wild at Heart'. It's a story about Harry's daughter Lily and Draco's son Scorpius, inspired by the quote from Astrid Lindgren's immortal love-story ''Ronja the Robber's Daughter''. Though I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, the story all-together will be somewhat different in style, points of view and (probably) chronology. I have no idea how long it's going to be, or when it'll be finished, but I've got a feeling, that it will be, some time… It's written from the heart.

-FunnyFloyd


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